


The Gift That Keeps on Giving

by TheShorty



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e02 The Gift, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Porn with Feelings, Touch, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-07 23:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14681688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShorty/pseuds/TheShorty
Summary: Losing Kes hits the Captain a lot harder than anyone expected. Chakotay sets out to help her through the hardest parts of grief.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first three chapters are safe for general audiences. The last two... not so much.
> 
> This is my first time posting on AO3, so I apologize ahead of time for any weird formatting issues.
> 
> Finally, a disclaimer: I don't own ST:VOY or any of its characters, which is a damn shame but here we are.

_Tweedleep._

The door beep surprised the Captain, pulling her from her brooding stare out the viewport. Or rather, at the viewport; it wasn’t like she was paying much attention to what was going on outside it.

She wasn’t really in the mood for company either. “Computer, time please.”

“The time is 2339 hours,” the monotone voice chimed, and the damn door chime went off again.

_Tweedleep._

There’s only one person brave enough to come by this late. It obviously wasn’t dire, or her comm badge would have gone off. She shifted a bit on the couch, pulling her knees up towards her chin and settling her arm on top of them. With a deep sigh, she let her head drop to the top of her forearm. Maybe if she just ignored it, he would think she was asleep and go away.

 

~~

 

Outside the door, Chakotay rubbed his hands over his drawn face and shifted his weight to his other foot. It had been two days since Kes dematerialized and threw them almost 10 years forward through space.

_It’s my gift to you._

Her words kept floating through his memory, every time he looked out the viewscreen or the window in his room. Out of Borg space, out of immediate danger… out of love. For this ship, this crew who had saved her and made her a part of her family.

The Captain’s face when she walked around her chair after putting Kes in the shuttle also flashes through his mind. He knew she had been crying, but he wouldn’t say anything about it in front of the crew. The other bridge crew may not have noticed the streaks down her face where the dust and ash weren’t quite right, where she tried to rub the tears away with the back of her hands… or maybe the palms of them… before she reached the bridge. If they did notice, they were also smart enough to keep quiet.

He wondered if that was the first time she had cried since that first plasma storm on New Earth.

_Tweedleep._

After another minute without a response, he tapped his comm badge. “Chakotay to Janeway.”

After a breath, he heard her click her comm badge but heard no audible response. He said the only thing that came to mind in response.

 

“Please.”

 

~~

 

He wasn’t going away, damn him. She hoped he would get the picture when she didn’t verbally respond to his comm, but the sound of his voice… she knew he would stay out there all night if he thought it would change her mind. Uttering something between a mutter and a growl, she finally raised her voice and allowed the doors to open. “Come.” She didn’t move, head still on her forearms, as the light from the corridor washed across the couch, just out of reach of her bundled form.

 

~~

 

It took two steps for Chakotay to pass the threshold and clear the motion sensors, feeling their closing whoosh more than hearing it. His eyes were having trouble adjusting to the dark in her living room compared to the brightness of the corridors. As they adjusted, he finally saw her on the far corner of the couch, curled into a small ball with her knees up. She hadn’t lifted her head from her arm; she was fighting something and they both knew it.

“What?” she said with enough of an edge that he knew she wasn’t going to look up. It was the same edge he heard in her voice when he, Tuvok, and B’Elanna finally banished her from the bridge and engineering two hours ago. For the last two days, she had worked at least 20 hours a day, living off coffee—both replicated and what Neelix tried to pass as coffee in the Mess Hall—instead of substantive food. He was on the verge of involving the Doctor when she finally agreed. She needed rest, but they all knew she was avoiding anything resembling downtime. Downtime meant she had to face what had happened… what was happening… and how she felt about it.

“I came to check on you,” he said as gently and lightly as he could manage and lifted the bottle in his hand a little higher, “and brought something along I figured you may need.”

She didn’t look up and didn’t move. He sighed heavily and had made his way to her kitchenette when she finally spoke. “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry, and you don’t have to ply me with booze.”

She heard his short, low scoff and then two glasses clinking together. Her First Officer listened so well, she thought wryly.

Feeling his weight shift the couch as he sat, she remained motionless, gearing up for a battle of wills. She heard the hiss of pressure releasing from the bottle and the soft glugs as he poured two glasses of what smelled like Andorian cider.

“I thought you might want something a little stronger than synthehol,” he said as he picked up the glass closest to him. He didn’t try to give her the other glass, just left it there on the table for her. He sat back with his own glass, sipping softly and watching the top of her head, her back as she slowly breathed in and out. He was patient, and silence didn’t bother him.

“You know I could have you thrown in the brig for insubordination.” Her voice sounded like she was struggling to keep the sharp edge she wanted.

“Oh really?” She didn’t have to look at him to see the teasing look on his face, the arched eyebrow focused on her.

“Yes.”

This time, her voice sounded tired to both of their ears. Physically tired, yes, but more than that… like the weight of her burdens was slowly strangling her, making it hard for her to breathe and even harder for her to speak.

Burdens he once promised to lighten.

He sighed deeply and swallowed the rest of his cider in one burning gulp.

 

~~ 

 

“Kathryn.” Her name fell off his lips, his voice soft and… what? She couldn’t identify the emotion caught in undercurrent of his voice; maybe she could, but she didn’t want to travel that road. It was too dangerous, especially tonight.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity even to the patient Chakotay, she lifted her head to look out the viewport again.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, voice low and soft as she reached over to take her glass of cider.

“For you to talk to me. You haven’t stopped since Kes…” his voice trailed off for a moment. “I’m worried about you, and I need… Kathryn, I need to make sure you’re okay.”

 

~~ 

 

This time when he said her name, her head turned towards his face, almost involuntarily. He felt her eyes on him. More specifically, looking at his mouth as her name rolled off his tongue. He took that little bit of promise and wanted to run with it, but an old adage flashed through his mind.

_Speak softly, and carry a big stick._

Leaning forward, he placed his hand lightly on the forearm she had lain across the back of the couch while she drank and looked out the window, and rubbed his thumb in slow circles. “I meant it when I said you weren’t alone.”

 _Love isn't quite the big stick they were talking about, but it's the most powerful thing I've got_. He would keep talking until she started, hoping that his love for her would be a big enough stick to back up his words and hold them both through what was looking to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

_I meant it when I said you weren’t alone._

The words echoed through her mind, over and over. Chakotay kept talking, in that soft, rhythmic voice he uses when he counsels crewmembers on personal matters or when he’s meeting skittish new wildlife on a planet during an away mission. He used the same voice with Seven when he was trying to distract her as she tried to assimilate the ship. Gentle waves of tender words, building in intensity and cresting with quiet urgency into another soft wave.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child,” she snapped at him, finally meeting his gaze with an icy glare. “Or a wounded animal you found in the woods.”

He stopped talking but held her gaze, obsidian cutting through the ice.

She sighed and moved to sit cross-legged, a little closer to him than she normally does. “I’m sorry, Chakotay. I’m tired and haven’t been sleeping. I know you weren’t trying to treat me like a child. I can see why you would treat me like a wounded animal, though. That’s kind of what I’ve been acting like, isn’t it?” She stood up suddenly and started pacing in front of the table where their long-forgotten cider glasses rested.

Chakotay let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“I’m not wounded, Chakotay. And I’m definitely not an animal.” She turned around to face him suddenly, staring intently at his face, needing him to believe her. “You know that, don’t you? I’m not an animal.”

“I know, Kathryn. But you have been acting like one. Snapping at crewmen and ensigns, yelling at B’Elanna, threatening to delete the Doctor and throw me out an airlock…” his voice trailed off for the second time tonight. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She suddenly plopped down right next to him, groaning as she rubbed her shoulder and craned her neck, trying to release the tension.

“I don’t know why it’s hitting me so hard, Chakotay. On that viewscreen, Kes looked… happy. Peaceful. She was excited about where her journey was taking her. But… I can’t help but take it personally somehow. I know she didn’t mean it that way, but it’s like I… we… weren’t good enough for her anymore.” Kathryn paused for a minute, her hands motionless on her lap as she met his eyes again. “Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

He held her gaze until she closed her eyes against the onslaught of the emotions she saw there.

 

~~

 

Chakotay watched as she paced, felt his body wobble as she plopped down beside him. She looked… defeated. Taking a deep breath, he hoped against hope he wasn’t wrong with what he was about to say.

“Not ridiculous, Kathryn. She knew something big was happening to her, and she didn’t want to destroy us in the process. And her gift… 10 years off our journey and safely out of Borg territory in the span of 30 seconds… what it means to our journey is incalculable. But that doesn’t make the loss of a friend easy. Kes came on this ship a quiet, curious barely-one-year old who knew nothing of the world outside her subterranean home and the Kazon camp that imprisoned her. She grew into a strong young woman, kind and compassionate, who helped us out of more than one tight spot. She brought a unique perspective to our journey and provided you sound and compassionate advice on many occasions. As much as you hurt, your pain is a testament to your relationship with Kes: what it meant to you and, I have no doubt, what it meant to her.”

He felt it to his very core when her heart broke and the tears streamed down her face.

 

~~

 

With every passing sentence, she found it harder to keep her composure. By the time he took a breath during his soliloquy, she could feel the tears silently escaping her eyelids, despite her best efforts. Gently, he placed his hands on either side of her face and kept talking. “Kes cared about us—this ship and its crew—so much, our safety and well-being were her greatest concern as she experienced this major life change. But she trusted you so much, Kathryn, that she let you carry her—in a very literal sense—during the most dangerous and difficult time in her life. She trusted you with her life. Kathryn, _sh_ _e loved you_.”

With those three words, her cries couldn’t stay silent any more, and he did the only thing he could think to do. Gathering her against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her, murmuring softly against her ear, his hands alternately rubbing her back and cupping her face gently where it lay in the crook of his neck. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him—one behind his shoulder, one around his neck—and pulled herself closer to him as the waves of grief rolled through her.

Finally, she sobbed herself to exhaustion; her breathing slowed, though the occasional tremor still shook through her. He continued his slow rhythm along her back, the other hand around her waist now. At some point, he had run out of words in English, and had converted to his native language. He continued to softly whisper in her ear, words she didn’t understand but that brought her comfort all the same.

“I’m sorry, Chakotay.” She said softly against his neck. “I’m so sorry. And now… I’ve wreaked havoc for two days, ruined your evening, and now given you an unexpected shower.” Her hand tenderly pressed where his shirt was wet with her tears under her cheek. She could feel him chuckle at her last statement, feeling a small smile start on her face. It fell quickly but knowing she could still smile was…comforting somehow.

“Thank you.”

 

~~

 

She said the words so softly he would have missed them if his ear wasn’t so close to her mouth. He didn’t respond immediately, then quickly realized it wouldn’t have mattered if he did. Her breathing was slow and even against his throat, her left hand curled around his neck, her right wrapped around his waist.

As carefully as he could, considering he was pretty sure his right leg was asleep from being in the same position for too long, he stood with her in his arms and balanced her until he regained feeling in both his legs. After carrying her to her bed, he contemplated changing her into her pajamas but decided against it. _Best not go rifling through her underwear drawer quite yet,_ he admonished himself. He pulled her shoes and socks off, careful not to touch anything that might tickle her, and then just as carefully pulled her covers over her.

“Stay…” she mumbled, fumbling for his hand when he started to move away. Chakotay kissed her temple, whispering in her ear again as he pulled his hand away.

 

~~

 

That phrase. _Chi hullo li._ She didn’t know what it meant, but she had an idea.

She would deal with it in the morning.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The language of Chakotay's people has never been fully developed as far as I can tell. However, given the rate of assimilation and language extinction, as well as linguistic and anthropological attempts to save them, it's realistic to think that by the 24th century, many Indigenous cultures will have experienced multiple rounds of ethnogenesis, combining aspects from multiple ancestral lines into a single language and cultural history. The words chosen here are from Chahta (Choctaw), but future phrases and cultural references may incorporate aspects of other Indigenous cultures from across the New World, as multiple episodes have made it clear that his roots are from the glacial areas to South American tribes.


	3. Chapter 3

“The time is 0603.” The computer alarm jostled her from a deep sleep. She had slept through 3 minutes of the computer talking at her…. that was unusual. Groaning at the heavy pressure in her face and head—the unwelcome result of her lost battle with grief last night—the events began to tumble back in slightly disjointed flashes.

_Please. Kathryn, I need to know you’re okay. I’m not an animal. You’re not alone. Not good enough. She loved you. Stay._

“Computer, reset alarm.” Well, she couldn’t change it now, so she painfully squinted one eye open to the rising lights in her room.

Turning in her bed, she half-expected to find Chakotay behind her, since the last thing she remembers before falling asleep is asking him to stay. Apparently at least one of them kept their wits about them last night.

Groaning again, she flipped the covers back and hauled her legs over the side of the bed. He didn’t even get her out of her uniform, just took off her socks and shoes. Rubbing her hands over her shoulders, she felt the tender indention from sleeping on the thick seam along the jacket opening and the pips on her shirt collar. _Such captain-ly behavior from me last night._ Her uniform and undergarments are tossed in the cleaning hamper as she moved into the bathroom.

“Computer, shower with water, 40.6 degrees Celsius.” She turned to the sink to brush her teeth while waiting for the room to fill with the steam that signaled the water was ready and the tiles weren’t freezing anymore. As her toothbrush did its automated duties, she took the time to look more closely at her face before the mirror fogged over completely. There was swelling and puffiness across her face—along her cheeks and nose, under her eyes, between her eyebrows; she hoped the shower helped, so that the crew wouldn’t know how her night went from a single glance. She liked more privacy that intense crying afforded her.

Stepping into the shower, she felt her muscles relax and her sinuses open under the hot water and steam. She normally saved her hot water rations for the bath, her ultimate indulgence, but this morning, she needed the comfort of a real-hot-water-shower.

She was dressed and heading around her bed to the open doorway when she noticed her afghan lay across the back of her couch, instead of its normal place on the chair. She hadn’t been alone last night, after all.

 

~~

 

Kathryn took her time in the shower, Chakotay noticed. He imagined her enjoying the indulgence of hot water until she had nothing else on her body left to clean, condition, steam, or stretch. Shaking his head, he tried to push those thoughts aside. _Later_ , he thought, _in my own quarters._

He hadn’t slept much last night, dozing occasionally on the couch but spending most of the night listening for any sign that Kathryn was in distress and repeatedly replaying their night in his mind. When her alarm went off at 0600, he laid motionless, face toward the back of the couch. He expected her to see him quickly, and hoped she would think he was still sleeping. Once the shower started, he realized she hadn’t noticed him.

Yet.

He braced himself for her entry into the living area when he heard her rustling around her room about 30 minutes later. He watched her cautiously from the other side of the kitchen table as she realized she wasn’t alone in her quarters. Her face was still tired, but her presence didn’t feel as hopeless as it had the last 48 hours. One night of crying couldn’t heal the grief, he knew from too much personal experience, but it was a start.

“Good morning, Kathryn.” His voice was solid and warm, and his eyes twinkled at the half-smile she threw at him.

“Well, this is a surprise.” She surveyed the mountain of food on the table and her right eyebrow arched up. “And probably half of my replicator rations for the week.”

“Don’t worry. I put in the emergency override code. You have plenty of coffee rations left.” As soon as he said the word, she took in a deep breath and he saw the realization cross her face—she was starving after almost 72 hours with little real food on her belly, _and_ he had hot coffee waiting for her already. More than anything, though, he was surprised at her response. He half expected her to yell at him or, at the very least, ask him to leave—pushing him away again. But she didn’t; at least, not fully.

“I didn’t even know there was an emergency override food code.” He watched her grab a padd from the living room on her way to the table, and his face fell a bit. Letting out a sigh of his own, he sat and poured his own cup of coffee. _You might have pushed your luck too much last night_ , he thought as he saw her stop dead in her tracks and her eyes widen. Immediately, he worried she had hurt herself somehow and rose to hold her for the second time in 12 hours.

 

~~

 

She grabbed a padd from the coffee table as she crossed to the impromptu buffet table, figuring they might as well do a little work while they ate, since they were both unexpectedly here. _Don’t fool yourself, Kathryn. You’re avoiding the awkward and the honesty. You always were a coward when it came to facing men who demonstrated their love for you_. That thought knocked the breath from her lungs and caused her to stop mid-stride. Her eyes snapped to his face, and she knew he saw her response. Concern covered his face and he started to stand, and she rushed to say something, anything that might explain her behavior without him insisting on a trip to sick bay. The last thing she wanted was the Doctor lecturing her this morning.

“I’m okay. Really. Don’t get up. I thought my shower cleared the pressure from all the… last night,” she stumbled on her words, trying to come up with something, “but apparently I was wrong. I’ll be okay, just need to be more careful with bending over today.”

She felt him watching her every move from his half-risen state. Cautiously, she moved to the table and sat in the chair nearest him; he sat back down only after she was in her chair. Plastering on a smile she didn’t really feel, she turned toward him. “Let’s eat. Maybe that will help.”

She could tell he didn’t believe a word she said; if he thought it were really a headache that could stop her in her tracks, he would have insisted on a trip to sickbay. Not that she could blame him, she had always been a terrible liar with him. Turning towards the food, though, she saw all her favorites—fried eggs, potato hash with peppers and onions, sourdough toast, summer fruits. _I could single-handedly eat a Klingon targ right now and still want more._ Filling her plate, she snorted at her own thought and took a large bite of eggs mixed with the hash.

His voice startled her. “Want to tell me what is so funny?” He asked, and quickly followed it with an apology for startling her.

She looked at him with a very full mouth, savoring the second unexpected indulgence of her morning, and gave him one of those “you’ll wait” looks that stopped those under her command and on her viewscreen dead in their tracks.

He waited, like he always waited. _If it wasn’t for me to finish my bite, it was for me to finish my thought, my sentence, my insistence on keeping him at arms-length._ Again, the breath rushed from her lungs and her eyes grew large as she swallowed quickly.

“That’s it. We’re going to sickbay.” Her mind didn’t have time to process his words before his fork clattered onto his plate and he stood up. His hand was between her shoulder blades before she could react.

“NO.” The word came out a little louder and more desperate than she intended. “No, I’m okay, Chakotay. I promise. I just…” She was blinking rapidly, trying to regain control of some part of herself as her voice trailed off. For two people who normally don’t have a problem talking to one another, they seem to be leaving a lot of sentences unfinished recently.

“Talk to me, Kathryn. What’s wrong? And don’t tell me it’s a headache again because we both know that’s bullshit.”

She spoke more softly this time, turning her face toward him. He could be as stubborn as she was, so she knew he would only back down if he could see that she was telling the truth. “No.” She controlled her voice better this time, and searched for the right words to say next. “I’m not ready to talk about it, but I’m not hurting. At least… not in a way that the Doctor can help.”

His eyes searched her face as she spoke. “Okay,” he said, picking his fork back up and stabbing a cube of potato and pepper with more force than was necessary for the softened vegetables.

“Don’t break my dishes,” she said dryly as his fork clanked into the replicated porcelain. She shot him what she knew was a weak smile, but hoped it would be enough to satisfy him that she wasn’t beyond hope, even if she needed time yet again.

 

~~

 

Chakotay consciously loosened the grip he had on his fork after she reprimanded his rough treatment of the dishware. _It’s still progress._ At least she didn’t say she wouldn’t talk to him; just that she wasn’t ready to talk to him. He ate the rest of his breakfast slowly, careful not to slam his fork into the dish while keeping her in his peripheral vision, looking for any other signs of distress—physical or otherwise.

He poured the last of the coffee into her cup as she finished her last bite and nodded toward the couch as he gathered their empty dishes. “I’ve given you the day off, Captain.” He could see the protest form on her lips and die before it made it out. She glanced at him, and then became entranced in her hands.

Finally, a soft but steady voice carried across the cabin. “Can you… I mean… will… you stay with me?” He could hear the hesitation in her voice. He stayed facing the replicator for a moment, hoping she couldn’t see the stunned look on his face. _Maybe I didn’t completely blow it._

He tapped his comm badge. “Chakotay to Tuvok.”

 _Tweebeep._ “Tuvok here.”

“Tuvok, I’m taking the day off. You have command. Please handle all non-emergent activity for both the Captain and myself until further notice.”

“Understood, sir. Tuvok out.”

Touching the replicator screen, another pot appeared. This time, though, it was herbal tea with an empty cup. Grabbing both, he fixed what he hoped was a neutral expression on his face and walked to the couch.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“You never told me what was so funny.”

She chuckled softly as she swallowed her sip of coffee. _Persistent and observant._ “It wasn’t actually that funny. I was thinking how I was so hungry I could eat an entire Klingon targ by myself.”

“That’s what happens when you try to live off coffee for two days instead of eating some real food.”

The look she threw him in response would have stopped anyone younger or less obstinate than him quickly. _Lucky for me, Chakotay doesn’t back down that easily._

She sipped her coffee silently again, contemplating if she really considered that lucky. She can’t say that obstinance was a quality that would have been on her list of wanted qualities before she met Chakotay. She only had to raise an eyebrow at Mark for him to acquiesce to her decisions, or at least drop the matter. Chakotay didn’t even flinch at her icy glare last night. She didn’t realize how much she needed something like that until it was in front of her. As annoying as she found it in some situations, it was equally thrilling that she couldn’t intimidate him into backing down. It’s one of the reasons she chose to make him her First Officer. _And that you--_. She didn't trust where that thought was going, and tried to shift her focus anywhere but inside her own head.

Movement at the other end of the couch caught her eye, drawing her out of her brooding. Chakotay’s fingers were against the back of his scalp, pushing at the spikey hair there. “I think I need to run back to my quarters for a shower and change of clothes.” His eyes filled with apology and a hint of fear, and it struck her that he thought she may not let him back in her quarters if he left.

That the spell would be broken, and she would go back to holding him at arm’s length.

She smiled as warmly at him as she could muster, given the heartache caused by that realization. “Go, Chakotay. Come back here when you’re done, and we can figure out what to do for the rest of the day.” She shooed toward her door with her free hand. “I asked you to stay with me, and you graciously accepted. I won’t lock you out of my quarters just because you had to go take a shower and brush your teeth. In fact, I might have locked you out if you didn’t; I know how much garlic I programmed into that hash.”

His smile reached his dimples this time, hand tugging lightly at his ear as it came down to the armrest. “You sure? Garlic is supposed to help keep the demons away, isn’t it?” He couldn’t resist teasing her; he wanted... needed... to see a smile that actually reached her eyes.

She couldn’t stop the smile his boyish grin inspired. “If it were that simple, I would have been eating those potatoes for two days now. No, Commander, you won’t get out of your morale duties with a simple breakfast and skipped shower. Now go, before I push you out the door myself.”

She smiled into her coffee cup as her doors whooshed closed moments later.

 

~~

 

The corridor to his quarters was blessedly deserted since shift rotation finished over an hour ago. He saw one ensign rounding the other end of the corridor as he punched in his door code, nodding in their direction as he hurried inside.

He was afraid that if he took too long, Kathryn would lose her nerve.

Stepping through to his bedroom, he stripped out of the clothes he'd been wearing for over 24 hours at this point. His absent-minded toss towards the hamper missed as he beelined for the bathroom. “Water shower, 39 degrees Celsius” he barked as he entered and grabbed his toothbrush. It was as close to a cold shower as he could muster. Running his fingers through his hair as his toothbrush worked, Chakotay looked at himself in the mirror for the first time since yesterday. He had an intense case of bedhead for someone who had barely slept the night before. _She didn’t run away in fear, that’s a good sign I think._

He didn’t know if he was talking about his hair or his intrusion into her grief. _Maybe a little of both._

Stepping into the shower, he made quick work of washing. His hands slowed briefly at his throat and waist, the skin tingling with the memory of her sobbing face and sleeping arms pressed there.

Grabbing his towel, he was equally fast drying his body and running the towel over his short hair. Grabbing the first things out of his drawers, he ended up in a pair of well-worn jeans and soft knit t-shirt. Within 20 minutes, he was back at her door.

He sensed that something was wrong before the doors closed behind him. She wasn’t on the couch where he had left her. _Spirits, Kathryn, I was gone less than 20 minutes._ Chakotay grimaced as he raked his hands through his still-wet hair. _I shouldn’t have left,_ he thought resolutely.

He heard sniffles from the other room and went to investigate.

 

~~

 

Kathryn was curled up on her bed, on top of the covers, half-out of her uniform. She couldn’t believe this was how he was going to find her. _You couldn’t even make it an hour without wallowing again, Kathryn. Some kind of captain you are._

He gently sat on the bed beside her. “Hey,” he said softly, running his hand over her shoulder and down her arm, “talk to me. What happened?”

She wasn’t crying yet, but her eyes threatened tears she didn’t want to spill. As his fingers reached her hand, she grabbed them and held them there. He didn’t pull away. “I went to change, since we have the day off.” He waited, moving his thumb softly. “I thought it would be nice to go down to the hydroponics bay to see some of the seedlings, and then I remembered…”

Remembering that Kes wouldn’t be in the bay when she got there had hit her like a freight train.

She knew he could see the tears in her eyes as she explained her current bout of wallowing, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from him, no matter how much she hated him seeing her like this. He was the only rock she could find in the river of grief that had swept her away, and she was afraid if she blinked he would be gone too.

She waited for him to say what she was thinking, to call her weak and self-absorbed. _Can’t even look outside your own grief long enough to let the man take a shower._

“Kathryn, can I lay down with you?” He asked so quietly, she almost missed it for her internal monologue. That wasn't the tongue-lashing she expected. “You can say no; it’s ok. I promise I won’t leave, no matter your answer.”

_This precious man._ She nodded quickly, not trusting her voice to answer him without cracking. _He'll be more comfortable lying down than hunching over me_ , she rationalized with herself.

“Thank you.” He said those words so simply, like she was allowing him an honor. _You’re the one doing me the favor here, Chakotay. No one wants to deal with a grieving woman, much less a grieving captain—their grieving captain._

“What were you just thinking about?” he asked as he moved to lie behind her. He read her almost as well as her sister did.

He never lost contact with her hand.

She answered him doggedly. “Nothing you want to hear, I’m sure.”

“I don’t ask questions I don’t want to know the answer to, Kathryn. You should know that by now.”

She debated for a moment whether to tell him the truth or lie again. She had already tried to lie to him once today, and it failed miserably. “I was thinking about how you’re thanking me like I'm giving you some great honor, while you’re doing me the favor. No one wants to deal with a grieving woman, much less their grieving captain. Yet, here you are, putting up with my senseless sniveling.”

She felt his breath against her neck as he pulled her back against his warm form. “I _am_ honored, Kathryn, that you didn’t kick me out on my ass last night when I barged in here, and that you’re still letting me be a part of your grieving process. That you trust me with these parts of you.” He continued with barely a breath in between. “You are not sniveling. You’re grieving. And if there’s anything I’ve learned in my life, it’s that grief needs to be felt and expressed or it will eat you alive.”

Her mind flashed to his Angry Warrior speech on New Earth, knowing how far his grief had pushed him. Turning in his arms, she brought her free hand to his chest and their intertwined hands to his face, placing hers against his cheek and feeling his rest softly over hers.

 

~~

 

Chakotay didn’t know what she was going to do next, so he focused on breathing slowly and keeping his shoulders relaxed. Tensing up would only scare her and that’s the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Her fingertips burned his cheek, dragging a trail of fire from his cheeks down his jaw and up to his temple, before settling around his ear like a Vulcan greeting--two fingers in front and two fingers behind, with her thumb on his cheek. They lay like this for what felt like an eternity, Chakotay’s arm around her waist and hand over hers while she rubbed soft circles on his temple and around his now hyper-sensitized ear.

Kathryn shifted in front of him, tucking her head back into the comfort of his neck and breathing deeply. She slowly released her breath and lifted her voice. “Chakotay?” The lilt in her voice as she says his name is still music to his ears.

“Hmm?” His response was barely a hum, but his heart was pounding. _She can feel your pulse on her fingertips, you idiot_.

“Will you touch me?”

It took more strength than Chakotay thought he possessed to remain still and keep breathing. Pulling back slightly, he waited for her to look up at him. “Yes, but I need you to be very clear with what you want me to do.” _If you’re not very specific, then all my fantasies may find life and I’m not sure that will help your grieving process at all._

“I… I don’t know. I need you touch more than my hand. I need to feel...” her voice faded out as she lost the words for what she was looking for. He knew her natural tendency for comfort was towards the tactile and kinesthetic—look at how often she had placed her hands on the shoulders of the crew as they worked on challenging problems together, or on his arm or chest as they developed solutions to their problems or celebrated the successful completion of a mission, how she paced when she was thinking through a problem. _This is nothing more than a comfort measure for her._

“Okay, but I need you to promise me that if anything makes you uncomfortable, you will stop me immediately.”

Chakotay waited, holding his breath without realizing it. _I can’t believe this is happening. I’m going to wake up from this dream any minute now to shower water pouring on my head still._

“I promise, Chakotay. I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable.”

With her promise secured, he started slowly. Her undershirt was untucked from her failed attempt at changing clothes, so he moved his hand to rest softly against her lower back underneath the hem. He felt her deep exhale where she had tucked herself back under his throat and felt his groin tighten. _Not now; you aren’t a randy cadet._ Pressing more firmly, he made small circles around her spine while his other hand started to move from where it covered her hand down her bare arm. He felt the goosebumps rise on her arms and felt her shudder slightly. “Does that tickle?” he whispered into her ear. He felt what may have been a head shake but needed to be sure. “I need to hear you say it, Kathryn. Does that tickle?”

“No. I mean, yes, but not in a bad way.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and seemed a thousand years away.

“Okay. Tell me if that changes.” His hand drifted from her shoulder to her side and he shifted his weight in a way that moved her closer but, hopefully, hid his rising erection.

 

~~

 

She couldn’t believe it was her voice that was asking him to touch her. The thought had entered her mind and made it out of her mouth before she had a chance to clamp her filter into place. _Where do you expect this to go? What do you expect to come from this? What in the actual hell, Kathryn Janeway? Our friendship can’t survive this if it falls apart. And this is guaranteed to fall apart._

He gave her an out, asking her how she wanted him to touch her. She could have easily kept it chaste. The shocked part of her listened as some… _insane…_ part of her brain answered him on autopilot. _I need to feel. I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable_. She’d heard stories of people claiming out-of-body experiences, like you’re floating overhead watching someone who looks like you do things you would never do yourself, but never expected to find herself in that position.

_Would you really never do this, though? Or have you just been too scared?_ She silently scoffed at herself. Kathryn Janeway doesn’t scare. She stared Fear and Death in the face. And won. _So why don’t you believe you can do the same with Love? Especially when you love the man who helped you face Fear and Death?_

“Okay. Tell me if that changes.”

_Why is Love the only battle you don’t think you can win?_

And with that thought, something in Kathryn Janeway broke deep in her chest. She could feel it spreading, floating heavy across her body like smoke in the wind.

 

_Where there’s smoke, there’s fire._

 

Both of Chakotay’s hands had settled against her lower back, right under the hem of her wrinkled undershirt. Tightening her hand on his cheek just so, she tilted herself back a hair and moved his head to look at her. Meeting his questioning gaze, she spoke the only thing that came to mind.

 

“Chi hullo li.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chakotay’s hand had traveled from her side to rest under the hem of her undershirt, joining in the ministration of his other hand. He sensed something changing. He waited to see if she would share where her mind wandered, giving her a chance to adjust to both of his hands on the skin under her shirt.

This time, she shifted her weight. Her hand tightened gently on his cheek, pulling him to look at her upturned face.

“Chi hullo li.”

His sharp intake of breath echoed through the room as he searched her face.

Her gaze, steadier than it had been in days, held his incredulous one as she said it again. “Chi hullo li.”

Her name broke from his lips, caught between a prayer and a moan. “You realize what you’re saying?” His voice cracked, but right now he didn’t care. _She doesn’t know what she’s saying._

“I don’t know exactly, but I know you said it to me over and over last night. Like it was a prayer that could save me, or maybe save you. What I hope it means, though, is that I love you. Because Chakotay--.” Her words were cut off by his lips pressing against hers. He didn’t need to hear anything else right now.

Kathryn’s hand tightened on his face again, pulling him closer and his eyes closed against the onslaught of feelings. He realized he was crushing her hips against his, squeezing the tender flesh on her lower back and hips to hold her in place like she would change her mind and run away.

He pulled one hand off her hips, only to be met with her hand moving from his chest to put it back, pushing her pelvis against him roughly as their lips played together.

Moving his lips against hers, he waited for her to make the next move. _Don’t rush this._ He thought he would shudder off the side of the bed when he felt her tongue tentatively flick his lower lip, as close as to shy as he’d ever felt from his captain. _Not just my captain. Not anymore. My Kathryn._

He felt her pulling back and opened his eyes, knowing that fear was written across his face as he searched hers. “Chakotay,” she whispered, “was I right?”

Laughter bubbled out of him, taking him by surprise and cutting the tension between them as she joined him in the joyful feeling. “Couldn’t stand the thought of being wrong, Captain?” he teased, resting his forehead lightly against hers.

She gave him one of her patented Janeway glares, retorting quickly. “Commander, I’m rarely wrong.”

They both snorted, knowing that neither of them actually believed that, and the room became silent except for the sounds of their breathing and their hands as they roamed over one another’s bodies over their clothes. Meeting his gaze once again, Kathryn ran her fingers over his lips. “It’s not something I could stand to be wrong about. Not again. Not anymore. I’ve been wrong enough in the last few years to last our entire lifetime.”

 

~~

 

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to keep looking into his eyes as her fingers settled against his lips. The butterflies in her stomach and the pounding of her heart reminded her of her anxiety, even as the fear melted from Chakotay’s beautiful face.

“Yes, Kathryn, you were right. I didn’t realize I said it so much, but I’m not surprised.” His eyes glazed over for a moment, as if lost in the memory of last night. “I didn’t know what else to say. You were…” his eyes betrayed the pain he felt at the memory of her broken in his arms, “sobbing and I, in my infinite wisdom of coming here to make you face your grief, ran out of words. I didn’t know what else to say. I know you had to go through it, to face your pain, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch. I don’t do helpless very well, I’m afraid.”

She smiled tenderly at him, fingers still on his lips, feeling every word he said from her fingertips to her toes.

“I don’t know if I would have faced it without your… intervention. Not like that, at least, and definitely not any time soon. I don’t know if you’ve figured this out, but I don’t do helpless very well either. But that’s how I feel, Chakotay. About everything that happened with Kes. I was… am… helpless. I couldn’t save her, couldn’t protect her. And now she’s gone and I really can’t protect her anymore.”

“She doesn’t need our protection anymore, Kathryn. We couldn’t protect her even if we wanted to; every child grows up and has to strike out on their own. Make their own mistakes, live their own life, find themselves and their place in the world. And though not a biological child, Kes was like a daughter to you. To us. That means we have to let her find her own way in the world, even if it means we can’t be there to protect her from every skinned knee or bruised knuckle. She knows… at least, I hope she knows… she can always come back to us if she needs us. She faced this transition in her life with grace and strength, something she learned from her ‘mother’,” Kathryn felt his fingers twitch against her hips, making quotation marks against her skin, “and that speaks to how strong she became during her time here. Can you imagine the quiet Ocampan former-prisoner we brought on board that first day facing this change with that strength?”

She felt the sting in her eyes as her tears built and slipped out, watching Chakotay’s face blur as his words guided her through another current of grief. She closed her eyes against the burn but didn’t try to stop them this time, letting them streak down her cheeks and into her hair.

“You may feel helpless now, Kathryn, but you did your job. You made sure that Kes will never feel helpless as she makes her way through this world, and that if she does, you will carry and protect her through it.”

His arms moved from her hips to wrap themselves around her, pulling her tightly to him. His lips fluttered against her cheeks and temples, following the streaks of her tears, trying to soothe her pain.

She opened her eyes once the tears finally subsided, drowning in a different river of emotion as she met his gaze. Wrapping her arms around him, she slid her hands under his shirt and pressed her palms firmly into his skin.

“Touch me, Chakotay.”

 

~~

 

Her whispered words, only a hair’s breadth from his lips, were all the encouragement he needed to do just that. Pressing his lips softly to hers, his hands started to move in all the ways he’d dreamed of for so many years. Her lips became insistent, pressing into his, her tongue tracing the underside of his upper lip with a pointed tip. He groaned softly and opened his mouth, his tongue darting out to meet hers for only a moment. Pulling back, he heard her whimper at the lost of sensation, smiling to himself.

“Let me touch you, hats’uts.” His lips trailed down her jaw to her throat, sneaking under her the collar of her shirt lightly, nipping and teasing until she pulled away from him in frustration. Before he could stop her, she shucked her shirt across the room; his hands stopped her as she was struggling to release the clips on her bra with unsteady hands. “Remember, Kathryn,” his teasing voice filled the tiny room, but they both heard the tremor as he said her name, “it’s my job to ease your burdens. All of them. Let me do my job.”

He could see the struggle in her eyes at the internal fight over whether to let him work at his pace or force her own. He softly kissed her jaw, her cheek, nipped her earlobe as he waited for her decision. Her hands relaxed in to his, and he gently guided her wrists above her head until their knuckles brushed the wall.

“Thank you.” He said as his hands started the trip down her arms yet again.

“This time…” was all she could muster before his lips found hers again.

 

~~

 

Kathryn dreamed of how Chakotay’s lips would feel against hers, how he would feel against her skin, but dreams barely touched reality. Without having to carefully restrain himself anymore, the reverence and love Chakotay felt for Kathryn radiated off him in waves every time he found a new patch of skin to caress or nibble, to lick or tease.

The speed—or really, lack thereof—with which he explored every surface of her body quenched the thirst for touch, for affection, for physical intimacy she held at bay since their return from New Earth, and created a new thirst she hoped was never fully satisfied. He surreptitiously avoided the major erogenous zones on her body on his first pass, knowing that once he went there, the end would come faster than either of them wanted.

Her breathing became ragged as he finally took her nipple into his mouth, teasingly light at first until she couldn’t help but shudder and giggle at the sensation. She could feel his smile against her skin, bringing her hands to frame his face as she tried to press harder into his mouth, to feel the connection between his mouth and the tightening knot deep in her belly. She groaned and pressed her hips up to meet his as he released her breast from his mouth before she could get what she wanted, feeling the pressure of his erection against her for a millisecond before he lifted himself away.

“My job,” he reprimanded her gently, “my time.”

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” she groaned at him, flopping back onto the bed.

“No, most definitely not. I’m pretty sure the point of my arrival last night was, in fact, to keep you from killing yourself.” His face dipped down and caught her nipple roughly in his mouth, finally giving her the pressure and friction she had been waiting for, sucking more deeply as her head lolled back and her back arched again to push her breast into his mouth.

She moaned and groaned her approval as he made his way across both breasts and down her body until he rested between her legs, waiting until she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “Watch me, Kathryn. Let me see.” He almost lost what little control he had left when he saw the vulnerability in her eyes replaced with wonder as his fingers and lips finally touched the most tender part of her body. She didn’t last long before her eyes closed and her head arched back, hands against his head holding him in place as she pushed herself against his mouth and lost herself in her orgasm.

As she started to come back down, Chakotay kissed his way up her body and lay beside her, lazily running his hands over her torso from collarbone to hip and back again. _I can’t believe I get to touch her like this._ His attention on the sensations coming from his fingertips means he missed the arched brow as the orgasm fog lifted from her brain enough to realize she had the element of surprise.

Catching him off-guard, she pushed his shoulder and he found himself flat on his back with Kathryn on hands and knees above him. Wet heat pressing against him, her request echoed his as he waited outside her door last night.

 

“Please.”

 

~~

 

“Computer, time please.” Kathryn shifted a bit on the couch, pulling her knees up towards her chin and settling her arm on top of them. With a deep sigh, she let her head drop to the top of her forearm.

“The time is 1953.” Her door chirped, and she felt a sense of deja vú as she raised her voice to allow her guest entry.

This time, though, she raised her head to see who it was.

It had been two weeks since Chakotay intruded on her grief and made her face her pain. She had slept in his arms almost every night since, with the exception of a few nights where they had to cover for beta or gamma shift openings, leaving them on different schedules for the day.

She had finally gone to see the Doctor, at Chakotay’s insistence. To be more specific, he slowly worked her to the point of orgasm and threatened to leave her there, hanging on the edge, if she didn’t promise him she would go to sickbay in the morning. As was expected, she had a slight imbalance of her neurotransmitters. “Nothing to worry about, really. It’s normal to have some shifts while you’re grieving. I can give you something to help balance them out, if you’d like, but in reality, they should return to normal as you work your way through your grief. However, I want to see you in here every three days until they are back to baseline. Brains are tricky; sometimes they need a little kick to get back up to speed.”

Chakotay was, of course, with her throughout her visit and promised the Doctor he would make sure she followed up as ordered. After two follow-ups with little improvement, she was given her a low-dose of anti-depressants and instruction to follow-up in a week. Yesterday, her neurotransmitters were on the low side of normal. The Doctor gave her another round of medication and said he would see her in another week, but was optimistic she was on the tail-end of recovery. “We shouldn’t push you too fast through this, Captain. You need to take time to work through your feelings, but you seem to be doing remarkably well. Honestly, better than I ever expected from you, given how little care you seem to have for your own wellbeing. I still think giving up some of your daily caffeine intake and getting more sleep would be beneficial to your recovery, as well as your general health.”

Chakotay helped Kathryn from the biobed and steered her towards the door before the Doctor could continue his diatribe. “Thank you, Doctor, we’ll see you in a week,” he said quickly before she could start that particular argument yet again.

Tonight, though, Kathryn smiled as Chakotay walked through her door and across the room to gently kiss her forehead.

These last two weeks hadn’t been all roses and sunshine; he’d held her as she cried at the random memories triggered as they found a new normal in their day-to-day life, just as she had held him when his sadness finally bubbled to the surface. He’d ducked from a flying padd on more than one occasion, as well.

He lay in bed with his head on her chest, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as her fingers idly played across the skin of his back and neck, and a thought dawned on him.

Kes hadn’t just taken 10 years off their journey back to Earth; she’d given them 10 years in the new home they were building with one another.

He whispered a soft prayer against Kathryn’s chest, one she finished with her new favorite phrase whispered softly in his ear as she relaxed into sleep.

 

“Chi hullo li, Chakotay.”

 

“Chi hullo li, Kathryn. Always.”

 

 


End file.
